


Native Secrets

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul's hiding things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Native Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Business Associates #1 under the pen name Duval.
> 
> From an idea by Ruth Schubert.

_"They didn't say anything about Cherokees…"_

 

          Ironhorse stretched out his legs and shifted into a more relaxed posture in the wing-backed chair, letting his usual professional demeanor drop for the moment.  Across the living room Norton and Harrison were engaged in an intense, silent game of chess – the astrophysicist on the defensive if the expression on Drake's face was any indication of the tide the game was taking.  Nearby, Suzanne was curled up in one corner of the couch, reading about the recent findings of exotic bacteria in soil samples from the Amazonian rain forest.

          The right side of Ironhorse's mouth tilted into a crooked grin.  There were occasionally times when things went right; times when they could just bask in each other's company and the quiet, and forget the covert war they were fighting.  This was one of those moments and he was enjoying it to the fullest.

          The grin spread into a smile as Debi bounded into the room, a folded newspaper in her hand and enthusiasm radiating from every pore.  The girl proceeded like a small whirlwind to the opposite end of the couch, then plopped down.

          "Colonel?" she said when she was settled.

          "Yes, Debi?"

          "I was reading the paper, and I saw something about Indians…"

          She was obviously hedging, and the tone of the girl's comment caught Norton's attention.  He looked up from the game, willing to leave Blackwood brooding over his last move without gloating.

          "Oh?" was Ironhorse's reply.  Why was his battle sense going off?

          "Yeah, it was sort of, well…  It's different," she said.  "Can I ask you something about it?"

          Blackwood glanced over his shoulder to watch Ironhorse.  Something was up…

          "Certainly, Debi," Ironhorse said, lifting his cup to sip Norton's latest coffee blend.  "I'd be happy to help," he added for Blackwood's benefit.  Why was Harrison watching him so intently?

          "Do Indians really have sex secrets?"

          Ironhorse choked, just managing to keep from spraying Mrs. Pennyworth's carpet with the dark liquid.  "Excuse me?" he gasped, and a brush of rose painted his cheeks.

          Suzanne closed her journal and sat up, her own smile well hidden behind a mask of motherly curiosity.  " _Sex_ secrets?"

          Debi nodded, her expression serious.  "See, in the paper they're talking about special things that Indians know about sex and—"

          " _What_ are you reading, young lady?" the colonel demanded, louder than he'd anticipated.

          Norton and Blackwood chuckled and Suzanne tried her best to look disapprovingly at the colonel.  "Paul, there's no need to yell, she—"

          "Dear Abby," Debi announced over her mother.

          The chuckles grew to full-fledged laughs.

          "Dear Abby?" Ironhorse asked, his cheeks slowly glowing a darker red.  "Let me see that."

          Debi bounced off the couch and carried the paper over to the colonel, who accepted it like an invitation to a case of the mumps.

          "See, right there," Debi said, pointing.  "What are those things?"

          "Yes, Colonel," Blackwood blithely teased.  "Explain about these sex secrets."

          "First, I want to know what it says," Norton added.

          "Right," Suzanne added seriously.  "Read it for us, Paul."

          Ironhorse's ears beamed a bright red.  "I don't think—"

          "Come on, Colonel," Harrison urged.  "Debi knows about sex."

          "That's _not_ the point, Doctor," the colonel snapped.

          "Well, I do," the girl protested.

          "I guess they really are secrets, Doc," Norton said, folding his arms across his chest.  "And we don't need to know."

          "Oh, let me see that," Suzanne said, pushing off the couch and snagging the paper Ironhorse.  "I'll read it."  She scanned the section.  "Kickapoo twist?  Apache Grip?"  She looked down at Ironhorse.  "Now _I'm_ curious."

          Debi smiled up at her mother from the couch.

          Suzanne ruffled the pages so she could isolate the article, then read.  "Yes, there are many closely guarded, secret Indian lovemaking tricks.  You will notice that divorce is very rare among Indians.  That's because they know how to please their women.  Secrets like the Apache Grip and the Kickpoo Twist will never be sold or given away by a true Indian."

          "Hmm," Harrison added, rubbing his chin.  "Do they use the same secrets to please their partners in a same-sex relationship?"

          Ironhorse opened his mouth to reply, but had none.  He sank lower in his chair, his face taking on a decidedly crimson hue.

          "Listen to _this_ ," Suzanne said before Ironhorse could react.  "Now I know why the Lone Ranger never got the girl.  They ended up with—"

          "Suzanne, this is—"

          "Come on, big guy, don't you trust us?" Norton cut in.

          "It's not—"

          "Ooh, here's another.  I've lived with a Mandan Indian for five years," Suzanne continued to read.  "And I wouldn't trade him for _five_ white lovers.  He's the greatest!"

          "They didn't say anything about Cherokees," Debi said, adding her two cents worth to Ironhorse's growing embarrassment.

          " _That_ was an oversight," Harrison said, giving his lover a wink.  "I can say that with complete certainty."

          "People—" Ironhorse groaned.

          "Ah, here we go," Suzanne interrupted.  "First the white man took all the Indian's land and some of his women.  Now they want the Indian's love secrets.  No way!  The Indian needs something to call his own."

          "Look!" Ironhorse said, pushing himself up to sit straight in the chair.  When he realized they were all staring at him, he blushed scarlet, leaned back and shook his head.  "There are no secrets, people."

          "Really?" Debi asked, the disappointment clear in her voice.

          "Debi," the colonel said, leaning forward.  " _Sex_ is a clinical term, at least to my mind.  But love, and making love, that's something more than what happens in the bedroom."  He refused to look at Blackwood.

          "What do you mean?" she asked.

          "Love's more than just sex, it's the way you live your life with the one you care about.  It's the small, day-to-day things that show your respect.  Love, making love, is more than the physical.  It's emotional and in the soul as well."

          It was Harrison's turn to blush and his blue eyes locked on the colonel's black.  He nodded.  "That was very well said, Paul."

          "And it sounds a lot like what the director for the American Indian Movement had to say, too," Suzanne added.

          "So those secrets aren't so secret after all, huh, big guy?" the computer hacker asked.

          "No, Norton, not really."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Harrison closed the door to Ironhorse's downstairs bedroom, and watched as the man finished laying out his clothes for the following day.  He was nothing if not thorough.

          When Ironhorse stopped and turned to face the scientist, Harrison grinned.  "That really was a very nice way of explaining things to Debi."  Ironhorse dipped his head.  "And, I also think it was an excellent way to avoid answering the question."

          Ironhorse's head came up, the raven eyes sparkling with mischief.  "And I suppose you'd like me to reveal all my cultural secrets to _you?_ "

          "I don't know about all," Harrison countered, wagging his eyebrows.  "But I would like a practical demonstration of the Apache Grip," he paused, then added.  "If you can translate it into Cherokee, and you're feeling up to it."

          Paul felt the first stirring of anticipation.  They were in for an interesting night.  He smiled.  "I'm up to it, all right.  The question is, will you be able to handle the Kickapoo twist necessary to get out of it…"

          "Try me."

          "I will."

The End


End file.
